¿Dónde está Frontier?

“Señorita! ¿Puede ayudarme? ¿Dónde esta Frontier?” 

I was walking in Terminal B at LaGuardia when a kind lady approached me. She reminded me of my tias. 

“Ahh, no se. Pero, deja me ver.” I pulled out my phone to check if Google knew what gates Frontier operates out of. No results. “Okay, no se, pero vamos a preguntar a alguien.” 

I found someone who worked at the airport. “Hey!” I pulled them aside. “Do you happen to know what gates Frontier normally operates out of?” 

“42,” he said. “All the way down, to the left.” “Nice!” I responded, turning to the lady. 

“Cuarenta y dos. Sigue alla, y tome un izquierda." I pointed with my hands, signaling a left. She thanked me and walked that way quickly. 

I wish we could approach strangers and ask, “Hey, where is 'it'? The final destination we're all searching for. And how do I get there?"

You know, similar to the simple question, “¿Dónde esta Frontier?" 

But I would get a weird look if I approached a stranger like that. 

We only have nudges, a sense of potential possibilities for this lifetime. A feeling in your gut that you will find the "it" that's destined just for you. Some follow that feeling. Others dismiss it, choosing the path most common or accepted - not knowing that the subtle nudge could change their life for the better. I’m deciding to listen to a nudge that’s been constant, never ending. Repetitive, consistently knocking. It could be the wrong gate. But it could be the right one. 

¿Dónde esta Frontier?